


Eucalyptus, coffee & sweet desperation

by LadyBlack3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, Friends to Lovers, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:00:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24964885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBlack3/pseuds/LadyBlack3
Summary: Who knew that an incident of accidental nudity in a loo stall would help them find their way to each other?
Relationships: Pansy Parkinson/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 20
Kudos: 47
Collections: Hermione's Nook Naked Weasley Fest!





	Eucalyptus, coffee & sweet desperation

****

**11th August 2006**

She pressed through the door of the Ladies, eyeing up the long row of cubicles. Thankfully it wasn’t too crowded just yet so all she would have to do was walk down the row and listen out for the current bane of her existence.

“God-DAMMIT! Screw this motherf-“

“Marco!” Pansy raise her voice over the chatter and the muted sound of thumping music.

“Polo!” came the corresponding reply from eight stalls down.

“There you are. I got you S.O.S text, what’s up?” she asked impatiently, tapping her pointed toe stiletto impatiently.

The door opened a fraction. “Get in, I need help,” came the hissed response. 

_Oh for the love of Salazar_ \- She squeezed her way into the tight space and pressed the door shut before turning to look at the redhead, just about managing to keep her mouth from dropping open. 

Of all the things she expected to have to put up with tonight, a naked Weasley was not one of them.

Loud music, check.

Cheap cocktails, also check.

Potter’s awkward attempt to keep the female fans at bay without giving away the fact that he was as gay as they come, practically a given.

But for some reason she appeared to have ended up in a loo stall, two feet away from a tipsy, naked redhead. Her nose scrunched up at the state of the loo and quickly cast a scourgify on the walls, the toilet itself and the floor, cringing at the visible colour difference. Just fucking peachy. “How long have you been standing here like this?” she asked, casting a silencing charm after a moment just to be sure they weren’t overheard.

“Uh, only a minute,” Ginny admitted, holding her little clutch bag before her groin, trying to cover up at least something. Her eyes were a bit hazy, not drunk but definitely having the fun a birthday girl should be having, though the current situation has certainly sobered her up some. She leaned back against the wall to keep steady in her platform stiletto sandals, the only thing left of her outfit. 

Pansy pinched the bridge of her nose. “Would you be so kind and explain to me where is the beautiful couture Saint Laurent jumpsuit that I had shipped from Paris last week for you for this occasion?” she asked, each word forced out through her burgundy lips with faux patience.

Ginny bristled at the tone, her shoulders squaring back in indignation. “Do I look like I want to be naked in a fucking loo stall in the middle of muggle London? How do you think this happened? Accidental magic, for fuck sake,” she hissed, waving her arms around expressively, forgetting that she was wearing no underwear at all. 

Pansy tried valiantly to keep her gaze on the redhead’s freckled face instead of enjoying the sight of her soft, dusky nipples, the gentle swell of her hips and- she forced her gaze back up to Ginny’s furious gaze. Seeing she realised her mistake and tried to cover up again subconsciously, Pansy turned to face the loo and set her own handbag down on the closed lid. “Do you have your wand?” she asked, her practical problem-solving brain kicked in.

“No. I tore my tights and couldn’t mend them properly. In my frustration I wished them to disappear and before I knew it, all of my clothes was gone and I was left standing here like this because my wand was in the hidden enlarged pocket you made for me in the jumpsuit,” she admitted.

Pansy nodded, looking through her clutch. “We can’t summon it back here, it would be too conspicuous,” she murmured, looking through the items she carried. Tissues wouldn’t do, they were too fragile. Her phone, lipstick, hand sanitiser… there was nothing she could use here for transfiguration. Blowing out a frustrated breath, she grimaced and stepped out of her pumps, glad for the cleaning charms earlier.

“What are you doing?” Ginny asked, seeing the Slytherin lift her foot up to the toilet lid, working to hike up her dress.

“Getting you some clothes,” she retorted sharply, carefully lifting the hem of her black silk Gucci dress to reveal her slim thighs encase in finest black stockings money could buy.

Ginny’s grumbling retort died on her tongue, as she watched the Slytherin silently while she undressed. Pansy worked methodically, gently unhooking the fine stockings from the suspender straps, carefully as to not catch the soft material with her short ruby-painted nails. She rolled the stocking down before repeating the process with the other leg as well.

Just when she thought Pansy was done, the brunette pulled her dress up a little higher, revealing a beautiful suspender belt with silver stitching and a small pair of black silk and lace knickers. They’ve been friends for years but Ginny had never seen her in a state of undress. She looked away despite her curiosity, her quickly sobering mind recognising it probably wasn’t the most polite thing to ogle the one person trying to help you in a rather sticky situation.

Pansy flicked her wand and cut one of the stockings in half, muttering a variation of the Multicorfors spell to change the shape and adjust the colour of the cloth. She ended up with a pair of simple lace knickers and matching bra that she passed to the redhead. “Put these on while I work on your skirt and top. It will have to be a two-piece outfit, I can only do so much,” she sighed. 

“I don’t think this will fit. The band is too wide-“

“Your bra size is 34B British standard, which is 75B in European and 90B in French sizing. You prefer sports bras and bralettes as home, underwired or demi-cup for leisure and balconette cut for going out,” Pansy looked up from her wand-work with a pointed glare and a raised brow. “So this one should be to your preference and cover the essential, as your top will be slightly thin and see-through because it’s made out of a stocking. Will you stop talking and let me finish what I’m doing, or do you enjoy being naked in the loo for no good reason like a drunken strumpet?”

Gritting her teeth with the effort to keep calm and not hex the sarky witch, Ginny’s mind caught up to the fact that she had no wand to do any serious damage with, and she was indeed standing in the loo naked like a drunken strumpet. She shimmied into the knickers that sat comfortably, before pulling on the simple but pretty black balconette bra, expecting it to be too loose by the look of the band. What she discovered was that she got a bit of support to make her chest look just a bit more on the C-cup side, and she could rotate her upper body and stretch her back without anything digging in, the slightly wider band feeling supportive without constriction. How in the world did Pansy know what she liked better than herself? She had never dressed her before tonight!

Pansy looked up and nodded approvingly. “Good, pull this over the top,” she handed over a slightly see-though but simple black sleeveless top that hugged her athletic build well without constraint. “And tuck it into this,” she handed over a beautifully transfigured chiffon knee-length skirt that kept the pattern of the suspender belt with silver stitched flowers.

It was playful when she pulled in on, Ginny twirled around in the spot to see it move. “I love it,” she admitted, careful to hold onto the wall to not tip over. “Even my shoes match!” she added, giddy at the change from the expensive jumpsuit.

Pansy opened the door and stepped out to get out of her way. “There’s a mirror over there,” she pointed by the door and went to wash her hands in the sink and freshen up her lipstick. 

“Thanks Pans, you’re a life-saver,” Ginny grinned twirling on the spot before the mirror to see the full effect. 

“Go on birthday-girl, time for more shots,” the brunette encouraged her, offering a smile as Ginny waved and left the loo, giving her a moment to compose herself. 

They’ve been friends for nearly seven years now, the year at Hogwarts after the war brining all of the houses together in very surprising ways but most obviously with a shared common room. She wasn’t sure about the redhead at first, her natural disdain for Ronald an initial barrier but when she got to know her, Ginny Weasley turned out to be smart, devious and honest to a fault, something Pansy found an intriguing combination. They got to know each other and although Ginny’s career as a professional quidditch player with the Harpies meant she was on the road and training five months out of the year, they managed to keep in touch and build on that initial friendship they built before their graduation.

As much as Ginny was quick as a lightening on the pitch, it wasn’t quite so in other areas. First her relationship with Potter ended before it really started when the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice suspected he wasn’t quite so straight after all. Then she decided to go solo for a few months before falling back in with Dean Thomas in the late 2000. They now referred to it as the double-trouble month because no matter how much she tried to respect boundaries with Dean’s flatmate Seamus Finnigan, it ended up being an interesting three-way situation for a few weeks before the trio decided to go their separate ways with a well of fond and fun memories once Ginny’s season resumed again. It was clear to Pansy that her friend was restless and sometimes lonely but there was little she could do for her.

That was until March 2004, a date that she would recall for a very long time, because she caught Ginny making out with her friend Millicent Bulstrode at their Five-year Hogwarts reunion party. It was a seismic shift for her when Pansy realised the redhead wasn’t exclusive to men. She had never mentioned it before and for some reason it bothered Pansy to no end. Was it a drunken fumble? An exception to the rule? It was just kissing after all that she stumbled upon. Would it have been more if she hadn’t interrupted them? She knew that it bothered her, rather fiercely. And a few days later she realised why. It bothered her because Ginny knew Pansy preferred women, and even though it appeared the redhead fancied women as well, she didn’t fancy her. She never once looked at Pansy in the heated way she looked at Millicent. That was the day Pansy realised she had fallen in love with one of her closest friends. It was made even worse by the fact that a few weeks later Ginny began dating again - Thomas McAllister from the Falmouth Flacons no less. And that relationship made it past the two year mark just this April.

Pansy remained as ever the best friend, the confidante, Ginny’s support. She had her fun and her stress-relief privately as she always did, but never felt that spark catch with any of the women she was seeing. The same spark she felt when Ginny laughed so hard she snorted, only making the laughter worse for them both. When Pansy had a really shitty day and five minutes after texting the redhead, she showed up through her floo with a bottle of tequila and one of their favourite films like Practical Magic or But I’m a Cheerleader. When the redhead had a tough season and allowed herself to be vulnerable with Pansy, crashing at her flat for a few nights before pulling on her aviators and facing the world again. She never felt like she could be herself as much as she did with Ginny, but there was little she could do without ruining their friendship.

The door to the toilets opened and Gabrielle Delacourt came in with a slightly unsteady step, heading for the first free stall.Pansy chuckled at the series of French expletives reaching her ears as Gabrielle wrestled with her dress. They were an odd bunch tonight but at least having Fleur and Gabrielle around provided her with a distraction from watching McAllister trying to snog the birthday girl. _Urgh…_

Pushing thoughts of tan, freckled skin and the fire in Ginny’s dark eyes, she adjusted her own dress and took one last deep breath. One more hour to get through this, and then she could get back home and crawl under the duvet for the rest of the weekend…

**24th September 2006**

She shifted tiredly, rolling over with a slight huff at the kink in her shoulder. She must have slept wrong again. Her eyes blinked open slowly and she registered the ugly grey day outside the tall windows of her bedroom. Did she go to bed late again? Urgh, her head was not doing so well. 

She was about to get up and find some relief for her headache when she felt a shift on the bed beside her. _What the- At t_ he sight of a messy bun of thick coppery hair peaked from beneath the blanket, the memory of last night came back to her. Thankfully she had stuck to her gin throughout the evening, instead of accepting the tequila her friend was throwing back like there was no tomorrow in between bouts of tears and fury.

Personally she thought Thomas Fucking McAllister deserved nothing but their contempt and disgust. The asshole decided to cheat on his girlfriend of nearly two and a half years with a groupie, which in itself was unforgivable. But what was worse, the clown got caught by the media. The Saturday morning edition of the Prophet had been quite something, the moving image of his lily-white ass being hastily covered by his trousers, and the made-up tart he had pressed against the wall in the back room of a seedy establishment was just the fucking cherry on top. Pansy lost all appetite for breakfast and that was saying something, she loved pain au raisin… The worst part was that while the media always acknowledged the scandal of a man cheating, the ultimate question was always asked - what was the woman he was with lacking that he sought to satisfy himself elsewhere? And in this case, it was the woman she was in love with they were slandering.

It took only a few hours before her quiet Saturday was disrupted by the redhead stumbling through her floo in a pair of worn jeans and a ratty t-shirt, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from crying, and hands trembling with emotion as she clutched the bottle she intended to drink dry. Abandoning the mood boards for her client meeting on Monday, she let the redhead crash with her and get drunk enough to make a hyppogriff dizzy before finally passing out on her couch. Pansy levitated her to the guest room and tidied up before trying to get some sleep herself, but that effort was interrupted by the redhead stumbling in to sleep beside her, not wanting to be left alone.

7.14am

She glared at her alarm clock. Three hours was too little sleep to get any rest and for her body to process the alcohol in her system. But she was awake now so there was nothing for it. Leaving the redhead to sleep her break-up booze binge off, Pansy headed to the bathroom to take the hangover cure and grab a quick shower, feeling a bit more like a human. It was four hours later when she heard the shower running upstairs, figuring her companion was finally awake.

Brunch was waiting under heating charms on her kitchen island, and she was on her third espresso of the day as she finalised the boards and fabric samples for her client presentation, glad to have given her friend some space to wake up in her own time. The quidditch season was nearly finished, with only a couple of days to go. The Harpies finished their last match only a week ago so Ginny could take some much needed time off over the next few months and process her break up.

_Maybe even finally see what was right in front of her_ , her subconscious whispered nefariously but she shot it down immediately, refusing to become bitter about being essentially friend-zoned. Ginny’s happiness was her priority anyway. Circe, she was turning into a mushy Gryffindor…..

“Hey…” Ginny greeted, wearing the same jeans from yesterday and a fresh t-shirt, one of the few she had left at Pansy’s place for occasions such as these. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” she ventured, wondering whether she would get a Xena or a Weeping Willow. 

Ginny took a deep breath and met her gaze dead on, her usually richly warm brown gaze flat and almost yellow with disappointment. “I don’t think I have any more tears in me,” she admitted before her gaze hardened, determination clear in the set of her shoulders. “I’m just glad I put my foot down about not moving in together. At least I don’t have to kick his sorry arse out, or Merlin-forbid look for a new flat,” she mused. 

“Didn’t get hit with too many bludgers just yet,” Pansy quipped flippantly, back to her usual dry tone. “Just a few apparently,” she said pointedly. She had been supportive last night and let Ginny rant, but she had made no secret of the fact that she wasn’t fond of Ginny's beau. In public she was polite if cold to the man, but if that was what the redhead wanted, she respected her choice. That didn’t mean her assessment of him had been anything but spot on, and he proved absolutely untrustworthy. 

Ginny sighed irritably. “My fucking apologies, your highness. Next time you hate my boyfriend, I’ll make sure to break up with him immediately,” she said more caustically than perhaps necessary. She knew better than to mistrust Pansy’s judgement. The brunette had a knack for understanding people and what they wanted unlike anything she had ever seen, which was exactly what made her such a successful entrepreneur. But she was too tired and hangover for lectures.

“I’m just glad he’s out of your life. Excuse me for thinking my best friend deserve so much better than some washed-out jock who can’t keep his dick in his pants when away from you,” Pansy’s response was said softly but delivered in a droll tone, her arms crossed over her chest defensively.

Whereas the remark would have usually soothed her, knowing that despite her prickly nature Pansy was the best friend she could ask for, Ginny felt her temper spike and headed for the living room where she pulled on her shoes and grabbed some floo powder. “Thanks for having me last night. I best leave before I disappoint you any further with my life-choices,” she flipped over her shoulder and was gone from the flat before Pansy could object.

“Fuck!” Pansy swore loudly and slapped her palm down onto the smooth wooden table loudly, the sting of the contact quite frankly deserved. Just fucking lovely.

She knew her mouth would run away from her one day but she wasn’t about to apologise for wanting the best for Ginny, even if that wasn’t herself. Her concentration in tatters, she wrapped up work and made some tea before heading back to bed to pull a Granger and read the day away until she could get busy with work tomorrow…

**4th November 2006**

“I love this place already!” Gabrielle grinned excitedly, looking around the new wizarding club that only just recently opened up near Diagon Alley. The Sorcerer was impressive with the amount of space that it provided, intimate booths and small tables dotted around the perimeter of the two floors, with a central dance floor and bar at the end of each floor, away from the stairs.

“We should check out the VIP area,” Ginny suggested, looking forward to letting off some steam with her friends. It was just Gabrielle, Lavender and herself, the three of them scoping out the club. Fleur’s thirtieth birthday was coming up in a week and they made a reservation in the VIP area to invite all their friends for a fun night out following a typically boisterous Weasley dinner that Molly would cram into the ever-expanding kitchen at the Burrow.

“Okay, Fleur will love this,” Lavender gushed as they showed the luminescent stamps on the back of their hands to the bouncer at the two short steps up to the elevated VIP platform before looking around the gorgeous area. It was much fancier than the general decor, the space enclosed on two sides with dark walls, with a full view of the whole club before them as they looked down and around at the mass of gyrating bodies. It was almost like being in the wheelhouse of a ship, thin glass lining the whole front of the exclusive area, adding intimacy without separating them from the crowd below.

Along the back wall were a few u-shaped booths with soft bench-seating in deep purple and black, the colours of the whole establishment. There were plenty of seats for them to break out into groups if they fancied, and the area between the seating and the enticing view of the club was just wide enough for them to dance privately. They even had their own private bar so they didn’t have to leave their section at all.

“I agree, she’ll love this. And we should be able to fit everyone in here,” Ginny pointed out, enjoying the vibe of the place.

Lavender grinned. “Since we’re here, we should try it out. Grab a booth, I’ll get the first round,” she suggested and they shrunk their cloaks before sitting down and discussing the upcoming party as the first couple of cocktails went down with relish. 

“Oh I love this song!” Gabrielle beamed as Nelly Furtado’s Maneater came on and they joined another group already partying in the next booth that also got up to dance. Ginny waved to let them know she was getting another round of drinks, shaking her head fondly at the three guys instantly drawn to Gabrielle, her part-veela pheromones clearly a heady mix with the club’s atmosphere. 

As she waited for the bartender to mix their Pornstar Martinis, she turned to survey the area and noticed with surprise that not everyone was dancing. The edge of the seated area was just bench seating with small round silver tables and she noticed two women seated at one of them, their heads quite close together as they seemed to be talking quietly. There was something familiar about one of them but Ginny couldn’t quite place it. She was just about to turn away from the intimate exchange when the women pulled away from each other slightly to look at each other. She did a double take as she realised that one of the women was none other than Pansy.

She was dressed to kill in tight black trousers that looked like they were painted on her willowy body, a sliver of skin revealed just between the waistband of the trousers and a black velvet corset top that hugged the gentle swell of her chest perfectly. What the fuck? Ginny reprimanded herself for effectively checking her friend out, wanting to go over and say hello but not wanting to interrupt what appeared to be a date.

They had managed to make up less than a week after their little squabble and Ginny was ever-grateful for Pansy’s support as she pulled herself together and re-prioritised her life after the break-up with Thomas. But lately there was something about the brunette that was guarded, like she didn’t want to share a part of herself. Was this it? Was she dating again? Did the pretty blonde leaning into Pansy so intimately have anything to do with it? Was she her girlfriend?

Ginny had so many questions but realised with a start that Pansy never really talked about any dates or love interests beyond the occasional fun night out. She knew the brunette preferred women, and she never minded, having herself enjoyed pleasure with both sexes, but for some reason this felt different. All of a sudden she felt like she was left out of this part of Pansy’s life. Unnoticed by the two women, Ginny watched as the blonde’s hand caressed Pansy’s thigh in a suggestive manner before the brunette leaned in and captured her lips in a kiss that built from a sensual caress to a deep, hungry kiss that spoke of desire and a promise of pleasure to come. 

Ginny’s reaction to witnessing the kiss was positively visceral, a shudder of desire running down her spine at the sight of the two beautiful woman, her body starved of affection and physical pleasure over the past weeks. And yet a part of her felt unsettled at the thought of Pansy leaving with the blonde to seek their pleasure. She couldn’t quite tell why the idea made her so ill-at-ease. Pansy deserved to be happy and have her fun, she certainly worked hard enough. But for some reason Ginny felt that the blonde wasn’t supposed to be in Pansy’s arms.

Feeling the bartender tap her on the shoulder, she turned around and came out of her stupor, offering the man a smile and a few galleons to pay for their drinks. By the time she picked the glasses up and headed for their booth, Pansy and her companion were gone. They may have left, but the image of the two women wouldn’t leave Ginny for the rest of the evening.

* * *

Her steps slow and tired after last night, Pansy walked up the front steps of the townhouse that held her flat. Pulling a last toke from her Eucalyptus cigarillo, she savoured the soothing effect of the herbs on her jumbled mind. She was clutching the decadent milky flat white that she only had a few times a month as a treat for morning such as these. Alethea was a delightful date. They weren’t serious or exclusive but when they were both single and fancied a bit of a stress-relief, they would go out for the evening before ending up at the blonde’s decadent townhouse. Lately thought it wasn’t as exciting as Pansy remembered. Alethea was a skilled lover but last night she was in the mood to be taken care of and Pansy obliged, making her companion come a few times before allowing herself some relief. And yet this morning tasted sweet-bitter as she wondered when someone would take care of her for a change. 

Sometimes she stayed for breakfast, other times like this morning she got dressed while her companion slept off the champagne and left a quick note before heading out coffee and something sweet and delicious. She knew it wasn’t a healthy cycle and she should be looking for someone to move on with from her feelings for Ginny, but that was much easier said than done. Work was picking up anyway, and she could feel her creativity flourishing so now was a good point to focus on herself alone anyway. She was at least very much looking forward to her almond croissant and a hot bath. She only had about 80 pages of the latest Dan Brown to finish and that’s what Sunday mornings were for now that she felt a bit less tense. 

That thought promptly died when she stepped to her door and the wards notified her someone was inside. She gently ran her wand over the door and discovered that no protection ward was triggered, so it must be someone with full access to her flat, and there was only one person who did. Taking a deep breath, Pansy came through the door and kicked off her ankle boots by the door before heading for the kitchen, walking past the redhead seated on her sofa, looking strangely nervous. 

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” she asked in lieu of a greeting, walking around the kitchen to get her coffee into a cup, and her croissant on a plate.“You’re in luck, I picked up two almond croissants. Fancy one?” she offered.

Ginny shook her head mutely, watching the brunette putter around, the outfit that looked daring last night just as enticing this morning. She was nearly fully clothed and modest, and yet somehow there was little left to imagine in strategic places. Pansy revealed what she wanted to, nothing more, nothing less, and Ginny came to realise that it was one of the things she adored about her. She had been the one person to keep Ginny together all these years through any crisis, and she could easily say that she had never seen Pansy treat anyone with the same care and patience she had for her.Of course they argued and their verbal sparing could occasionally turn fairly epic but there wasn’t a time when they couldn’t find a way back to each other’s confidence. 

She had barely slept last night after they came back from The Sorcerer, trying to figure it what it was that was bothering her, and it came to her just as the cool autumn sun was breaking on the horizon. The thought of Pansy kissing the pretty blonde didn’t feel right because she wanted Pansy to be kissing her instead. Fuck, she was such an idiot! How did she not notice this?  
  
All those time she came to Pansy for comfort, the only person who could make her smile, the only person to ever really listen without judgement before telling her flatly and honestly why she was being an idiot or if she needed to let something go for her own good. Sweet Circe, despite having trusted family at the club back in August for her birthday, it was Pansy she texted when she was standing starkers in a loo stall with nothing but her clutch and shoes. And what did Pansy do? She took off her own clothes to transfigure a whole new outfit for her, never mentioning it once afterwards that she was owed a pair of new stockings and a suspender belt.

Ginny didn’t tell her, but she placed a statis on the outfit and hung it up on the door of her wardrobe after that night. She thought initially it would make a cute outfit again but then she realised she just wanted to keep it as a memento of the night, of what Pansy made for her. Now she knew the real reason she clung to the memory of that night - because even then she was in love with her best friend without realising it. 

Pansy startled when she turned around from the sink and found the redhead only a couple of steps away from her, her usually bright brown gaze dark as mahogany and boring into her own. Only now did she notice the tired circles beneath Ginny’s eyes, and her slightly dishevelled appearance, as if she had just thrown on her jeans and jumper without paying any attention to them. “Ginny? What’s wrong?” she asked, seeing the way she way picking on the dry skin beside her short thumbnail, a nervous gesture. 

“Are you together? With the blonde?” she asked, her voice raspy with disuse this early in the morning. 

Pansy looked at her in surprise. “I don’t know what you mean,” she tried to deflect, not sure how Ginny knew about Alethea.

“Last night, at The Sorcerer, you were kissing a blonde woman and then you left with her. Are you...dating?” Ginny clarified, not giving her a chance to evade the question again. She needed to know.

Pansy practically downed her flat white, feeling a headache coming on already. “I don’t see how that’s relevant-“

“Answer me!” Ginny interrupted her impatiently.

Surprised by the force in her voice, Pansy frowned, her shoulders squaring back. 

“Not that it’s any of your business but I have needs to. I’m not dating Alethea but she’s a good friend we sometimes go out and have fun. Happy?” she positively hissed.

“Yes,” was Ginny’s only response as she closed the distance between them and reached up to cup her face in her warm, callused hands before their lips met in a firm kiss that tasted of eucalyptus, coffee and sweet desperate need that was making Pansy’s head spin. 

Her surprised gasp only encouraged the redhead to press forward, Pansy’s back leaning heavily against the kitchen cabinet behind her as her lips were plundered with a deeper kiss that made her toes curl.

“Wait-hmm,” she tried to get out between further kisses, her hands reaching out to grip Ginny’s arms and push her away slightly. Their kiss broke and they were looking at each other, panting breaths caressing their cheeks as they remained a scant couple of inches apart. “What is this… you can’t just…” she struggled to get her words out, talking being the last thing she really wanted to do. 

“I love you,” Ginny felt the three words escaping her lips before she could censor herself. She had felt the responding heat in Pansy’s lips, giving her courage to push ahead. “Last night, I realised why I didn’t want the blonde to be kissing you. It’s because I want to kiss you. You’re my…best friend, my everything. I can’t…I want-“ she tried to find her own words but this time it was Pansy who interrupted her by surging forward for another kiss with a needy groan escaping her throat.

“I want you too…just, promise this is not just a fluke,” she panted, kissing a path down Ginny’s freckled throat, licking a line up to her ear lasciviously. 

Ginny’s hands slid down to hold into her hips, pulling their bodies closer together. “No, I want you, all of it,” she said firmly and with the conviction she felt blazing in her chest. Gods she finally felt like she could just _breathe._

Pansy guided her towards the bathroom, flicking on the walk-in shower before getting back to the redhead, her fingers impatiently tugging on the jumper to get it off. Impatient, Ginny just flicked her wand and their clothing disappeared off their bodies and landed in a heap nearby. She chucked her wand away and pulled the brunette under the hot shower spray. She could smell her night and companion on Pansy’s skin and while it didn’t bother her so much knowing she had no claim on her, a shower would do them both a world of good after the heat of the club last night.

Their lips didn’t separate as she reached up, knocking over a bottle or two before settling on the pump of a shower oil and gathered some in her palm, allowing herself the pleasure of spreading it over Pansy’s lean body. She was pale as moonlight, her skin soft and fragrant as the scent of jasmine rose in the hot steam of the shower. Her callused fingers gently caressed a pink peaked nipple before cupping the small breast and teasing the sensitive flesh with an exploring touch.

Pansy nipped her bottom lip in retaliation, pushing the wet coppery strands away from Ginny’s freckled face as she pulled away slightly to look at her. The constellations of freckles spanning her torso were only enhanced by the light blush of her creamy skin under the hot shower spray. She had dreamed of this body ever since the incident at the club, but now she thought her memory missed out on the purplish scar healing on Ginny's shoulder from the last Quidditch game, the soft silvery stretch marks on her hips, or the darker beauty spot just above the neatly trimmed curls at the apex of her thighs. “So beautiful,” she whispered, leaning in to kiss the redhead once again as her hand sought to explore her.

Ginny wasn’t having it though. She gathered the brunette’s hands and pulled them up to her shoulders before getting some more of the shower oil and sensually running her hands across and around Pansy’s hips until she reached the pert rounded cheeks, squeezing them greedily as their slippery bodies pressed against each other sensually. Pansy gasped as their bodies made contact, their chests almost aligned as she felt the swell of Ginny’s breasts against her own, shuddering as their nipples caught one another.

“I want to feel you…” Ginny whispered across her lips, not wanting to presume the brunette would want to feel her inside, or that she wasn’t sore after last night with her companion.

Pansy was however already nodding, her hips undulating forward to rub their loins together sensually. “I need you inside me,” she bit her bottom lip as a shudder of pleasure rippled down her spine at the friction of their bodies.

Ginny encouraged her foot up onto the stone seat extended from the wall, opening her up to the redhead’s questing touch. Encouraged by the heat emanating from Pansy's slick sex, she cupped her hand firmly against the swollen lips and clit.

Pansy’s pleased groan echoed around the stone and glass surrounding them as her hips flexed against the delicious touch, the added friction starting to build her up to a sweet release. Gods she needed this so badly. Her head fell back against the stone tiles at her back, giving Ginny’s tongue and teeth access to the length of her neck and slim collarbone. Just as she felt a plea for more on the tip of her tongue, Ginny’s hold on her shifted and she felt one of the fingers slide up inside her deliciously.

“Fuck,” she panted, her walls already tightening hungrily around the intrusion, greedily trying to pull her deeper, closer. “Another one…I’m getting close already,” she encouraged, her short dark nails digging into Ginny’s slender, firm shoulders in search of an anchor in the haze of her pleasure. 

Ginny rested her forehead on Pansy’s shoulder momentarily, relishing the feel of her slick heat asshe carefully thrust in two of her fingers, curling them in search of the spongy tissue covering the most sensitive bundle of nerves. When Pansy arched into her hold, she knew she found it. She tried to lean down and taste more of the brunette’s skin, nipping at her sensitive nipples and laving her rosy skin with the occasional nip, just to hear Pansy’s breath hitch for a moment. She wanted to get to know every inch of this beautiful body, but she could already feel the tightening walls squeezing her fingers trying to keep them in.

Pansy felt her pleasure building and she held onto the redhead tightly, pulling her as close as she could for a last heated kiss as she tipped over the edge, a hoarse cry of pleasure muted somewhat by their lips. Ginny held her close, wrapping her free arm around her waist to steady them. Her fingers slowed down their gentle thrusting, enjoying the rosy cheeks and glint of pleasure and passion in Pansy’s eyes as she came down from the peak. Once her body wasn’t quite so tight, Ginny gently slipped her fingers out and licked them clean with a hum.

“I really want to taste you,” she admitted, groaning in delight when the brunette leaned in to kiss her deeply and share the taste of herself between them.

Pansy kissed her gently once more before pulling away with a mischievous smile. “Later, let’s move to bed,” she suggested, reaching for her shower oil to get the redhead clean and ready for her pleasure. The rest of their day was spent in bed, only occasionally making their way to the kitchen for some sustenance.

Who knew that an incident of accidental nudity in a loo stall would help them find their way to each other? It wasn’t exactly a fairytale, but neither of them did conventional anyway. And when Ginny eventually moved in with the brunette, Pansy had the transfigured outfit from that night framed and hung up in their walk-in wardrobe. Ginny never told her partner, but she renewed the statis charms on the framed outfit every month they stayed together for many years.

Fin.


End file.
